


fall apart to fall together

by haleofStilesheart



Series: Tumblr Prompts [19]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, third wheeling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-10
Updated: 2016-09-10
Packaged: 2018-08-14 07:51:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8004421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haleofStilesheart/pseuds/haleofStilesheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>He’d been expecting Isaac or Erica or Boyd, hell even Peter, to be invited. Not Derek.</em><br/>When he’d learned who it was that was going to be third wheeling with him he’d almost refused to go entirely. But how could he tell Scott that he’d finally worked up enough courage and confessed his feelings for Derek only to be harshly rejected?</p>
            </blockquote>





	fall apart to fall together

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xamberry](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=xamberry).



> For the dialogue prompt: 119. "It's not a double date, we're just third and fourth wheeling."

“It’s not a double date, we’re just third and fourth wheeling,” Stiles informed the waitress for the second time since they’d entered the restaurant, the fifth time that night he’d had to nip that idea in the bud. 

The first time had been at the movie theater when they’d been getting their tickets, the second time when they’d been in the concession stand line. Both times Stiles had simply snapped  _ no _ when the cashiers had asked if it was a double date, both looking a little shocked at his vehement denial.

The third time had been the restaurant hostess when they’d walked into the restaurant and requested a table for four, the young woman apologizing when Stiles immediately shut her down. The fourth and fifth times were courtesy of the too-bubbly waitress whose gaze turned predatory and lascivious as she looked at Derek after Stiles’ correction.

“We’re ready to order,” Stiles snapped, handing her his menu with a grimace as she blatantly ogled Derek like he was a piece of meat on display at the butcher’s shop. Blinking in blatant surprise at Stiles’ admittedly rude behavior, as everyone else at the table gawked at him as they relayed their order, she jotted down their order and gathered the menus before returning to the kitchen, leaving the others to gape at Stiles as he angrily crunched on an ice cube from his water.

Scott and Allison were getting back together (again) this time taking proactive steps towards actually staying together for more than a few weeks at a time, so when Allison had suggested dinner and a movie Scott had immediately asked Stiles to come with them. Tired of constantly being the third wheel, Stiles had initially refused, only agreeing to accompany them when Scott suggested they bring someone else from the pack along so he wouldn’t feel so left out.

He’d been expecting Isaac or Erica or Boyd, hell even Peter, to be invited. Not Derek.

When he’d learned who it was that was going to be third wheeling with him, only a few minutes before Scott and Allison’s date, he’d almost refused to go entirely. But how could he tell Scott that he’d finally worked up enough courage and confessed his feelings for Derek only to be harshly rejected?

It had only been two months (seven weeks and three days to be exact) since that awful night but the memory had already become a deep ache in his chest, a throbbing regret that haunted him every day.

Stiles had shown up at the loft uninvited a few nights before he was to leave for Stanford, sitting down with Derek on the couch as he clumsily blurted out how much he loved Derek, how much he wanted to be with him. Scott had encouraged him to just be honest, to get everything out in the open, so Stiles had done just that, detailing the development of his feelings from an infatuated crush to a deep, genuine love.

Derek had shut him down. He’d stood from the couch and stalked to the wall of windows, growling that Stiles didn’t love him, that it was just a physical attraction he’d get over. He’d bluntly told Stiles he didn’t have any feelings for him whatsoever and that he should leave.

Stiles had simply nodded, biting his tongue, and left the loft without another word, quietly closing the door behind himself. He’d climbed into his Jeep and calmly driven out of the building’s parking lot, only to pull over half a dozen blocks away when he broke down into tears, pressing his forehead against the steering wheel as he sobbed.

He’d arrived home with red, bleary eyes and tear stained cheeks, gratefully accepting the cup of hot chocolate and the hug his dad offered him the moment he entered the house. Stiles had fallen asleep on the couch with his head on his dad’s shoulder, clutching the fabric of the Sheriff’s sweater like a lifeline.

He’d avoided Derek as much as possible after that night, opting out of visiting the pack on weekends under the guise of needing to study, nearly getting caught in his lie when Isaac had spotted his Jeep when he’d returned to town to spend Labor Day weekend with his dad.

So now here he was on Thanksgiving break sitting next to the guy who’d so rudely rejected him two months before, being expected to behave civilly over appetizers. He’d admittedly been a little uncouth with the waitress but he knew damn well how much Derek hated being objectified and as much as he hated Derek at the moment he still loved him and he’d be damned if he let some buxom bimbo eye-fuck him as he glanced around clearly uncomfortable with the leering.

“Dude, not cool,” Scott chastised, shaking his head in disapproval as he took a sip of his Coke.

“It’s not cool to objectify people, either,” Stiles bit out, popping another mini egg roll into his mouth, effectively ending the discussion about his poor manners. He was in no mood to get lectured by Scott, he just wanted to eat and get his ass home so he could curl up in bed and try not to cry himself to sleep like some pathetic little cliché.

He was spared any more critiques about his attitude when the waitress returned with their entrees, the smell of his double bacon cheeseburger making him salivate as she laid the plate on the table in front of him. After distributing the rest of the dishes she turned to Derek with a downright predatory grin, laying her hand on his shoulder as she informed him, “Let me know if you need anything else.  _ Anything _ else.”

“We’re good,” Stiles declared with a sneer as he saw the way Derek’s shoulders grew tight the second she touched him. She sent Stiles an almost imperceptible glare as she removed her hand and turned to leave, heels clicking against the tiled floor. Stiles shook his head, muttering, “Asshole.” 

They ate in relative silence, Stiles devouring his burger and stuffing his face with steak fries as Scott and Allison chattered away, sharing a flatbread pizza. Derek for his part just ate his rare steak, occasionally contributing to the conversation with the little snarky comments Stiles loved, Stiles biting his lip to keep from bursting into tears.

It was a pretty amiable affair until Derek tried to snatch one of Stiles’ fries off his plate, like they were still friends, like they were  _ boyfriends _ , casually eating off each other’s plates. Stiles viciously slapped his hand away, snarling, “Get your own.”

Scott threw him a baffled look while Allison arched a brow at him, both clearly shocked by Stiles’ refusal to share. Sharing food was a pack thing, a bonding gesture of trust in one another originating from a time when werewolves would try to kill each other over a measly scrap of meat, at least that’s what Derek had told them, but Stiles was in no mood to adhere to pack traditions at the moment.

So he just kept shoveling fried into his mouth and munching on his burger, ignoring the dirty looks the waitress tossed him every time she walked by. And by ignore he meant reveling in the daggers she kept shooting him, basking in the knowledge that he’d thwarted her little game of disrespecting people’s personal space.

He started to rise after finishing his burger, eager to get home and wallow in self pity, only for Scott to suggest dessert, Derek and Allison enthusiastically agreeing. Resisting the urge to throw his head back and groan, Stiles excused himself to the bathroom, shrugging when Scott asked if he wanted them to order him a dessert.

After splashing some water on his face and checking his phone, pulling up Pokemon Go and catching a Jigglypuff in a futile attempt to stall his own return, Stiles steeled himself and started the walk back to the table where Waitress Bad Touch was overtly flirting with Derek again. She was rubbing a hand over his chest, despite the grimace on his face and the way he recoiled from her touch. Stiles only heard the tail end of whatever line she was using. “...or if you’d like something a little sweeter…”

“Thanks, we’re good,” Stiles spat as he plopped down into his seat, curling his lip in disgust as he looked at her manicured hand on the leather of Derek’s jacket. She yanked her hand back as she left, rolling her eyes at Stiles’ belligerence. 

“I ordered you a slice of peanut butter cream pie,” Derek mumbled after a moment, digging his fork into his own slice of French silk pie. Stiles grunted in acknowledgement as he lifted a forkful of pie to his mouth, moaning as the taste burst over his tongue. It was like a Reese’s cup had sex with an angel and given birth to the pie.

After they all finished dessert, Stiles practically inhaling his slice of pie as Derek slowly savored his, Allison and Scott sharing a piece of chocolate caramel cake, they paid their bill, Stiles leaving a message for the waitress under the tip line, advising her to respect people’s personal space and stop harassing them, especially when they’re too polite or scared to tell her off.

He’d jogged to Allison’s car, tired and dejected and just wanting to go home, when Scott told him he and Allison were going to walk around the park across from the restaurant for a little bit. Stiles had dropped down onto a nearby bench and waved them off, fishing a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and slipping one into his mouth, squawking when Derek ripped it out of his mouth and snapped it in half. 

“Don’t you know how bad those things are for you?” Derek growled, throwing the cigarette onto the ground.

“Oh, fuck you,” Stiles snapped, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring up at Derek. 

“What the hell is your problem?” Derek demanded. “You’ve been acting like an asshole all night.”

“Well excuse me for not having the time of my life when I’m stuck with the guy who rejected me two months ago!” Stiles spat, valiantly trying to hold back his frustrated tears, not wanting to humiliate himself any more than he already had.

“Is that what this is all about?” Derek asked incredulously.

“Yes!” Stiles exclaimed, standing up. “I came to you and told you how I felt and you kicked me out! You barely gave me the time of day! Because I’m just some dumb kid, right? What were your exact words? Oh, that’s right.  _ ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about, Stiles. You’re just a kid. You don’t know what love is’. _ ”

“I―” Derek attempted to speak but Stiles cut him off. “Because I’m just too young and stupid to know what I want, isn’t that right? Because I’ll always just be some stupid little kid to you, won’t I?!”

“I didn’t want to hold you back!” Derek shouted.

“Hold me back? What the hell are you talking about?!” Stiles barked, completely lost.

“You were just about to leave for college, Stiles. I thought if we started dating I’d be holding you back from having the real college experience,” Derek explained. “You should be out going to parties, meeting new people, making new friends, fooling around like a normal college student. You deserve that much.”

“I’ll never be a normal college student, not after all the shit we’ve been through,” Stiles pointed out, sitting back down on the bench, anger dissipating in an instant. “And why the hell would I wanna go hook up with some immature idiot who just wants sex when I could be with the guy who’s literally saved my life more times than I can count?”

Derek shrugged, his shoulders slumping in defeat as he sat beside Stiles on the bench.

“What? That’s it? Just―”Stiles imitated Derek’s shrug“―that’s all?”

“I’m sorry,” Derek breathed out quietly. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You threw me out of your place!” Stiles reminded him loudly, temper flaring up again.

“I know,” Derek murmured, scrubbing a hand over his face. “And there’s no excuse, I just― I...I wanted you to hate me.”

“What? Why?!” Stiles squeaked, eyebrows knitting together.

“I thought if you hated me it’d be easier for you to leave,” Derek whispered. “I just wanted the best for you, I swear.”

“Oh, you big idiot,” Derek heard Stiles mutter before there was a pair of petal soft lips on his, hands fisted in the lapels of his leather jacket. Allowing himself a moment of selfishness Derek wrapped his arm around Stiles’ waist, burying his other hand in his soft brown hair. He somehow managed not to whine when Stiles broke the kiss, pulling back to lick and roll his eyes fondly. “You freaking idiot. I could hate you with every fiber of my being but I’d still love you.”

“Yeah?” Derek gasped breathless, awed disbelief coloring his voice.

“Yeah,” Stiles confirmed, leaning forward for another kiss, scooting closer to Derek on the bench. Derek grabbed Stiles under the knee to haul him closer, throwing his leg over his hip, practically tugging Stiles into his lap, and tightening the grip he had on his hair, tilting his head the slightest bit to deepen the kiss.

And if Scott and Allison returned from their walk twenty minutes later to find Stiles and Derek kissing it was their turn to third and fourth wheel. Especially when they drove them home, still kissing in the backseat.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://hale-of-stiles-heart.tumblr.com/)


End file.
